


A Night at the Poker Table

by clgfanfic



Series: Alias Smith and Jones - A Night Series [5]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:33:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More actors and outlaws.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night at the Poker Table

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Just You, Me and the Governor #11 under the pen name Shiloh.

          Pete yawned loudly, but trailed after his co-star as he paraded down the set's boardwalk.  Ben ignored the non-verbal comment, intent on reaching the saloon before it was completely dark.  Pushing through the complicated blocking of a bar room fight had taken them overtime and in the rush to clear out before the studio tour brought in a tramload of tourists wanting autographs and pictures the two actors had left their corrected pink pages behind the bar.  Picking them up now would be better than trying to re-memorize lines of dialogue the following morning, minutes before filming. 

          The shadows grew darker as they reached the saloon.  "I'll get the lights," Ben said, lifting a weathered sign and flipping the switch hidden behind it.

          Lights came on inside the set and the piano began plunking out "Oh, Dem Golden Slippers."  Ben glanced over at Pete, his expression surprised. 

          "Must be pre-set for tomorrow's shoot," Pete said in reply to the unspoken question.

          Ben opened the door and the pair stepped inside.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Several dusty cowboys sat scattered around the tables and three men leaned against the bar, sipping on their drinks.  An old, grey-whiskered gentleman sat at the upright piano, playing.  Pete and Ben exchanged looks. 

          "It's happening again," Ben sighed.

          Pete nodded.  "But where are they?" he asked, scanning the room for their doppelgangers.

          "Hey, Smith!  You got some nerve coming back down here."

          Pete and Ben turned, hoping to find Heyes and Curry.  Instead they found five dirty men sitting at a table.  The cards, chips, and money scattered across the table told both actors that the men had been playing poker. 

          Pete drew himself up and put on his Heyes persona before he walked over.  Ben followed, comfortable in his role as the Kid.

          "Can I help you?" Pete asked.

          "Yeah," the largest (and ugliest, Pete noted) of the men said.  "You can sit back down here and give us a chance to win back our money.  If yer ain't yeller."

          "Thought you said you was turnin' in," another added.

          "Uh, yeah, we are," Pete said.  "Going to turn in."

          "Yeah, we're beat," Ben added, trying to look tired instead of anxious.

          The big man stood.  "Seems to me you can't be tired," he growled.  "You ain't no school teacher, is ya?"

          "No," Pete replied.  "I can honestly say that I have never taught school."

          "Then sit down," the man commanded.  "Unless ya really are yeller."

          "Find them.  Now," Pete instructed under his breath.

          Ben nodded and forced a yawn.  "Well, good luck, Joshua.  Think I'll call it a night.  Evenin', gentlemen," he said, touching the brim of his hat.

          The men glowered, but it was obviously it was Heyes they wanted at the table.

          "Here," the ugly cowtramp said, sliding two tall stacks of chips over in front of Heyes.  "That should 'bout equal what you won off'n us."

          "Thank you," Pete said sincerely.  He didn't think the men would appreciate his modern greenbacks.

          Taking a deep breath, Ben puffed his cheeks in contemplation, then walked to the bar.  The man behind the highly polished wood counter watched the poker table with a troubled expression.

          "Them cowboys don't take kindly to losing," he said quietly.  "You and your friend should've stayed in your room."

          Ben nodded.  "Yeah, suppose you're right.  Uh…" he said, then grinned apologetically.  "Which room was that?"

          The bartender gave Ben a once over.  "You don't look that drunk."

          "I hold it well," Ben replied and mimicked a hiccup.

          "Number Three."

          "Uh, there aren't any pink pages back there any place is there?" he asked.

          The bartender gave him a frown.  "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

          "Never mind.  Thank you," the blond said, tipping his hat, then heading up the stairs.

          Reaching the top, he checked the numbers on the doors, then turned the corner to find #3.

          He knocked softly, waited several moments and knocked again, louder this time.  An unintelligible mutter made it past the door, but Ben couldn't decipher the annoyed noise.

          The door cracked open slightly and a half-closed blue eye stared blearily at him.  The eye rounded and the door opened further.  A hand reached out and grabbed Ben's vest, hauling him roughly into the dark room.  The door shut.

          Ben heard the scratch of a match and a lamp was lit, illuminating the room.  The Kid peered at him through slitted eyes.

          "Heyes," the blond said.  "It's _them_ again."

          Heyes, sitting up in the bed nodded.  "Glad to hear it."

          "Why?" the Kid demanded.

          "Otherwise I'd be havin' a nightmare."

          "Uh, look," Ben said.  "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a problem here."  He launched into an explanation of the current situation: the poker players, Pete's induction into the game, the stormy looks…

          "Those men had blood in their eye when we left," the Kid said.  "They sure aren't gonna take to a second fleecing."  He met Ben's concerned gaze.  "He can play poker, can't he?"

          "Sure," Ben replied.  "But not like Heyes."

          Heyes and the Kid exchanged glances.

          "We need a diversion," Heyes said.

          The Kid and Ben echoed, "Any ideas?"

          "I'm working on it," Heyes told the twins as he climbed out of bed and pulled on his clothes.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Pete sat, staring at his cards and wondering if he could bluff his way out of a disaster.  Almost all of his chips sat in the massive pile at the center of the table, the remaining stack in front of him just enough to call Ugly's latest raise.

          A commotion erupted in the saloon and Pete glanced up, his expression reminiscent of a pole-axed calf.  His jaw went slack as a young woman took the stage with a smile and a flip of the back of her too-short dress.  The men scattered across the saloon cheered, including Ugly, who appeared ready to wait before he made Pete look like a fool.

          "Pam?" Pete wheezed, the more rational portion of his mind telling him in no uncertain terms that it was _not_ his sister up there, just her doppelganger.

          "Evenin', boys," the look-alike cooed.  "I hope y'all are havin' a good night?"

          Shouts in the affirmative answered her.

          "Well, ain't that just fine."  She giggled seductively.  "And just think, it's about to get better," she promised, standing.

          Launching into a sultry song, the chanteuse held the men in the saloon spellbound.  Everyone except Pete, who couldn't help but take advantage of Ugly's lapse in concentration to sneak a look at the man's cards as they drooped.

_Yes!_   Pete thought.  He had a better hand!  The gruff cowhand was bluffing.

          He glanced back at the singer just as Ugly realized his slip, and quickly pressed his cards against his chest and glanced at him.

          Pete grinned at the pretty young woman, watching Ugly from the corner of his eye.  It looked like the ruse had worked.  Ugly thought Pete was as taken with the woman as he was and looked back to the singer.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Okay, somehow I've got to switch places with him," Heyes said, watching the game from the shadows at the top of the stairs.

          "How?" Ben asked.

          "Diversion," Heyes replied, a grin spreading across his face as the young woman appeared and started her song.  He turned to the Kid.  "Think you can arrange something?"

          "Got enough to pay for the damages?"

          Heyes smiled.  "Most of their wages," he said.  "I think that oughta cover it."

          "Okay."

          Heyes turned to Ben.  "You stay right here.  And don't let anyone see you or the whole place'll think we're flimflamming and the sheriff'll get involved."

          "Right here," Ben assured.  "I'll stay right here."

          The Kid soft-footed it down the stairs and made his way toward the stage.  When the woman finished her song he stepped between her and a man waving a twenty dollar gold piece.  The drover did exactly what Curry expected him to do.  He took a swing at the Kid.

          Curry hit the drover in the face, sending the gold piece flying across the room.  Pete's hand snaked up, grabbing it out of the air.  And all hell broke loose.

          Punches and furniture were thrown and landed.  And above the ruckus, the plink of the piano set the tempo.

          Pete felt a hand on his shoulder and looked, finding Heyes grinning down at him.  "Upstairs.  Hurry."

          Without comment Pete slid out of his seat and made a beeline for the top of the stairs, dodging men, glasses, chairs, and an occasional table as they flew by.  At the top he found Ben waiting for him.

          "I don't believe that worked," the blond said, shaking his head.

          Pete shrugged.  "Why not?  It's their show, after all."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The tumult was over as quickly as it started.  The Kid and Heyes paid the bartender for damages, keeping him from fetching the sheriff.  That done, Heyes smiled indulgently at the drovers and sat back down.  He picked up Pete's cards and sighed silently.  Not exactly the kind of hand he would have preferred to play given the size of the pot.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          At the top of the stairs Pete cursed softly under his breath.  "I forgot to tell him.  It's a winning hand."

          "Pete," Ben said, his tone slightly disappointed, "that's Hannibal Heyes we're talkin' about down there."

          The dark-haired actor fired a glower off at his co-star.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The Kid made sure Heyes was set, then made his way unobtrusively back up the stairs where he found Pete and Ben.  "Would you two get in the room?" he hissed.

          "I have a winning hand," Pete said.

          The Kid nodded.  "Get in the room and stay there."

          The two actors did as instructed and Curry waited to make sure they did.  That done, he returned to the bar.  Heyes glanced over and the Kid gave him a slight smile, then rubbed his chin.

          "What'll it be?" the bartender asked.

          "Whiskey," Curry said.

          The older man fetched the drink and sat it in front of Curry, who paid him and slugged it down.  "Ahh, now I think I can some sleep," he told the bartender and returned to his room.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ugly stared at Heyes, his elbows thumping the table as he leaned closer.  "So, what're gonna do?" he demanded.

          Taking a deep breath, Heyes pushed the stack into the center of the table, "Call," he said.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Back in his room, Curry muttered to himself as he quickly packed his and Heyes' saddlebags.  Occasionally he glanced at the two actors, shook his head, and muttered some more.

          Pete took a step closer.  "Um, why are you packing?"

          "Because," the Kid told him, "when Heyes wins _all_ their money instead of just _most_ of their money, those drovers are gonna come lookin' for a little satisfaction."

          "Oh," Pete said.  "Sorry."

          The Kid paused just long enough to level a sour look on the actor before he finished shoving their few possessions into the saddlebags.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Heyes raked in the pile of money and chips, then carefully picked out the cash and coin, leaving the pile of chips.

          "I hope you boys won't hold my good luck against me," he said, knowing they would do exactly that.

          There was no reply as Heyes stood and pocketed the money.  He gave the four men a brief smile, then headed for the stairs.  Behind him he could hear the grumbles start.

          Reaching the stairs he ascended at a steady pace until he was out of sight, then hurried to the room door, where he knocked and entered.  "It's not going to take 'em long," he said.

          The Kid motioned his partner to the window.  "We can leave this way."

          Heyes flashed Curry a bright smile.  "Not bad."

          The Kid flushed slightly under the praise, then nodded toward Pete.  "He found it."

          "Let's go," Heyes said, accepting one of the saddlebags and stepping through the window.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The four men tiptoed across the roof below the window, making their way to the edge where they jumped the remaining six feet to the dirt alley.  From there Pete and Ben followed the two ex-outlaws to the livery.  Inside, the actors kept watch while Heyes and Curry saddled their own horses and two others.

          An old man staggered out of a small room, rubbing his eyes.  "What in tarnation's goin' on?"

          "Evenin', Mr. McComb," Heyes said with a friendly smile.

          "Evenin', hell, it's the middle of the night!"

          "Yes, sir, we're aware of that, but we're leaving," Curry said.  "And our friends here need horses."

          The liveryman looked from Heyes and Curry to Pete and Ben, blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked again.  "Well, I'll be…"  He turned back to Heyes.  "I'm dreamin', ain't I?  I sure am…"

          "How much for these horses?" Heyes asked, gesturing to two mounts in stalls.

          "Fifty dollars," McComb said.  "After all, this is my dream and that's a good price."

          Heyes dug out the money and handed it over.

          "O' course, if you want saddles it'll run ya another eagle."

          Heyes scowled, but handed over the twenty dollar gold piece.

          McComb laughed like a boy finding a puppy on Christmas morning, pocketed the money, and waddled back to his room.

          Curry moved to quickly saddle the two rangy horses.

          "They're coming," Ben called in a whisper.

          Heyes went to the back door and peered outside.  "This way, too.  Great."

          "Come on," Curry said, waving the two actors.

          Pete and Ben jogged over to the horses and mounted.  Heyes and Curry did the same just as the men pulled open the doors at the front and back of the livery.  Shots rang out.  The horses reared, their shoulders colliding before they bolted for the exits.

          The drovers, surprised to find two Smiths and two Jones faltered, allowing all four men to escape in two clouds of dust.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          They rode fast and hard until they reached the woods.  Curry pulled up, grinning widely at his partner.  "We did it, Heyes," he said.  "And we got rid of them two at the same time."

          "Heyes?"

          The Kid blinked.  "You're not Heyes, are you."  It wasn't a question.

          "Sorry."

          "Damn!"

          "So what are we going to do?" Pete asked.

          The Kid thought for a moment, then said…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Kid, hold up!" Heyes called, jerking his horse to a halt.  He glanced back over his shoulder, trying to see if the drovers had managed to keep up.

          "Uh… Heyes?"

          The ex-outlaw swung back to face his partner.  "Yeah?  See something?"

          "No, but—"

          "Think our twins got away okay?" Heyes asked with a grin.

          "Oh, yeah, I'd say at least half of them did."

          Heyes's eyes narrowed.  "Kid?"

          Ben shook his head.

          Heyes's eyes closed and his chin dipped toward his chest.  "Great."

          "Now what?"

          Heyes thought for a moment, then said…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Back there?" Pete said.  "Are you crazy?  Those cowboys want to give us a whole bunch of unnatural holes!"

          "But that's where Heyes'll go.  And if your friend's with him…"

          Pete nodded.  There was nothing else he could do.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Besides," Ben said.  "What makes you think the Kid and Pete'll go back?"

          "The Kid knows."

          "Well, I'm glad he does.  I just hope Pete does."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Both pairs worked their way back to the small town, careful to keep watch for any sign of the drovers, but sighting nothing except an old coyote making his rounds. When they reached the edge of the trees they waited, scrutinizing the livery.  There was no lights, no movement, nothing to suggest an ambush.

          Pete and the Kid rode in first, dismounting inside, but keeping the horses close enough for a quick getaway.

          Moments later Heyes and Ben rode in.

          "Heyes?" the Kid called quietly.

          "Yeah, it's me."

          "Ben?"

          "Yep.  And I don't know about you, but I'm ready to go home."

          "Amen."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          After waiting for several minutes to see if the drovers were going to show, Heyes and Curry said their good-byes and rode out at a hard gallop, anxious to get away from their doubles.

          Pete and Ben watched them go, then unsaddled the horses and put them back in their stalls.  That done, they walked out of the livery, stepping back onto the set street.

          They exchanged glances.

          "You want to try getting those pages again?" Pete asked.

          "Not on your life!"

          "My sentiments exactly," Pete said.  He placed a hand on Ben's shoulder.  "Let's go get a beer."

          "As you said… amen."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The next morning McComb walked into the livery, noticing the two horses munching hay in their stalls.  He frowned and shook his head, his hand sliding into his pocket to fingered the money that rested there.

          His mood lifted and he smiled and chuckled.  "Well, I'll be damned…"

The End


End file.
